


if I traded it all

by liviafan1



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24429739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liviafan1/pseuds/liviafan1
Summary: Pre-series.How it all started.
Relationships: Lena Adams Foster/Stef Adams Foster
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to explore a little bit of how Stef and Lena came to be. You'll recognize a little bit of dialogue from the show.
> 
> I'm also ignoring here that Lena was dating someone at the time that she and Stef met.

Lena Adams knows she’s in trouble from the moment she meets Stefanie Foster. Stef — while incredibly gorgeous in a blouse and a pair of well-fitted jeans — is also incredibly  _ married _ .

To a man, nonetheless.

But Lena can’t deny the sparks, the stutter in her breath, the smile across her lips that breaks free when she grasps the other woman’s hand in hers for the very first time.

She shows Mrs. Foster around Anchor Beach, smoothing her clammy hands against her skirt as if she’s simply smoothing out a wrinkle — a wrinkle she’d never have in the first place because she’s obsessive about hanging up her clothes when they’re done drying and there’s nothing she hates more than ironing. 

She can’t remember the last time she had a reaction she could time to the snap of her fingers with someone she only just met. 

Her ex Gretchen comes to mind briefly, but even that was more of a slower, wary burn. She’d been cautious of Gretchen and her flirtatious nature at first, which she realized several months later — when she’d caught Gretchen between the sheets with Lena’s best friend — that she’d been right about all along.

No, this,  _ this _ is a first for Lena. Usually poised and calm, she feels anxious, fidgety, and unsure of herself. It takes her back to that time some years ago when she was just coming out and everything felt awkward and charged as she dove in head first with her eyes wide open.

“Do you have any questions?” she asks Stef kindly as they come to a stop in front of Lena’s office.

“It seems like a great place that you’re really passionate about,” Stef says gently. “How long have you worked here?”

Lena’s face grows warm. She loves Anchor Beach — it’s not without its faults, certainly (some that she’s hoping to rectify if she can get some of the teachers onboard) — but she believes in it fiercely with her whole heart and it makes it easy to want to come to work every morning.

“It’s a wonderful place to work,” Lena confirms, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I started here a few years ago, shortly after I completed my PhD in child development.”

“Impressive.” Stef whistles. “I think that’s a glowing recommendation if I ever heard one.”

If she wasn’t before, Lena is definitely blushing a little bit now. “Mrs. Foster - ”

Stef waves her off. “Call me Stef.”

“Stef.” Lena nods. “I know I haven’t spent any time with Brandon, but I think he would really feel at home here if he’s as musically inclined as you say he is. We’ve got a great program here and our teachers really care about their students.”

“Do they have you give this tour to all prospective parents?” Stef cocks her head, amusement sparking in her hazel eyes. “Because if they don’t, they should.”

“Thank you.” Lena ducks her head, biting back a smile at the compliment. “If you’re interested, you and your husband can come back in a couple of weeks to fill out some paperwork while Brandon goes through a kindergarten screening.”

“Right,” Stef fidgets a little with the purse strap on her shoulder, uncomfortable. “It’s just going to be me and Brandon. My husband and I are separated, so we work opposite shifts to make sure someone can be with Brandon.”

Lena swallows hard. Okay, she wasn’t expecting the whole separated-from-the-husband plot twist. Maybe she  _ is _ picking up on a vibe from Stef. “It’s not a problem,” she replies softly. 

Stef nods and the two of them just stand awkwardly for a moment, unsure of where to go from there. 

“My card,” Lena blurts out.  _ Smooth, Lena. _

Stef lifts an eyebrow, the delicate corners of her mouth twitching in amusement. “What?”

Right. Leave it to a straight woman to fluster the hell out of her — story of her life. “Sorry. I meant to say that I’ll get you my card in case you have any questions before then. It has my direct line on it along with my cell.”

Stef smiles. “Perfect.”

“Just give me one sec.” Lena pushes the door open to her office forcefully (it sticks and maintenance has had other priorities for weeks now), sucking down a few deep breaths to steady herself before she grabs a card from the stack on her desk. 

She feels...off-kilter and she relishes the thought of coming back here alone to gather her thoughts after she says goodbye to this woman.

Lena thrusts her business card out to Stef, a little  _ too  _ forcefully, but the other woman doesn’t notice — or doesn’t comment on it — as her fingers brush Lena’s to take it from her. 

There it is again. The frisson that cracks like a lightning bolt in the air in front of them. 

Lena can’t tear her gaze away from Stef’s flushed cheeks as the blonde carefully slips the card in the back pocket of her jeans. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Now she’s  _ really  _ out of excuses to prolong this goodbye anymore. But then “Can I walk you out to your car?” is out of her mouth before she can stop it.

Stef’s forehead wrinkles in surprise before her mouth rearranges itself into a pleased smile. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. You must have 800 things to get back to.”

She does, but Stef doesn’t have to know that.

“Actually, I’m about to wrap up for the day, so it’s no problem at all.” Lie. She still has another hour’s worth of work before she’s ready to head out.

Lena starts to lead Stef away from the building, savoring the way the salty sea air assaults her senses as they wind down the sidewalk toward the parking lot.

“Lucky you. I’ve gotta head back to the precinct before I pick up Brandon from his dad’s.” 

Lena falters. “The precinct?”

“Oh, sorry, did I not mention? I’m a police officer.”

Lena’s mouth drops open a little. “You are?”

Stef laughs and Lena bites her bottom lip sheepishly. She didn’t mean for it to come out  _ quite _ like that. “My dad was a cop and it just seemed like a natural progression. It lets me help people in ways I can’t do on my own.” Stef pauses thoughtfully. “Kind of like what you do.”

Lena stops in her tracks, taken aback by the comparison by their two callings in life. “I don’t save lives — ”

“That’s not the way I see it.” Stef looks at her intently,  _ intensely _ , in a way that makes Lena feel as if Stef can see right through all her layers. “Other than family, fewer things are more important in a child’s life than education.”

Lena’s stunned. Where did this woman come from? She clears her throat, licking her lips. “I couldn’t agree more,” she says quietly.

Stef opens her mouth as her gaze flits across Lena’s face, but she hesitates, shutters it all away a snapshot later. Lena shivers, brushing a hand down the goosebumps that prickle along her skin. It’s 75 degrees outside, far too warm to blame it on the weather. 

They finish their walk in weighted silence, most of the kids having left the campus by this point in the day.

They stop near a lone four-door in the south end of the parking lot. Stef smiles. “This is me.”

Lena holds out her hand again, tells herself it’s just a polite gesture and not because she wants another excuse to test the physical connection between them. “It was great to meet you. I hope to see you again soon.”

Stef wraps Lena’s hand in her warm, electric grasp. “You will.” Then, with a wink, “Bye Lena.”

Oof, yeah.

Lena Elizabeth Adams is in over her head.

* * *

In the weeks leading up to seeing Lena for the second time, Stef is a goddamn mess. She’s grateful she has 5-year-old Brandon to distract her from her deep well of thoughts and spastic energy during the time she’s not at the precinct.

She thinks about Lena every day — the way her body reacted to her, the way  _ Lena _ reacted to her. They’d both been nervous, bumbling, over-complimentary, even...flirtatious? 

There was definitely something there, but the idea of what it is remains untouchable, unthinkable, hidden in the recesses of Stef’s mind since that time all those years ago when her father shoved her toward a pastor and she was forced to banish all thoughts of confusing, romantic feelings for women. 

Dredging that up again would lead to so much heartache for so many people. Maybe she was bisexual? Surely, she didn’t  _ need _ to be with a woman. Maybe Mike wasn’t the right man — she was still sorting that out — but if he wasn’t...there were others. Plenty of them. 

None of which would turn her world upside down.

And what about Lena? She hadn’t seen a ring, but the woman could be married to a man with kids of her own for all Stef knows. A vibe didn’t mean, anything...right?

Even so, the morning Stef is set to go to Anchor Beach again, she takes extra care picking out her outfit — and Brandon’s — and reminds her son of the polite manners she’d worked hard to instill in him over the years. Though really, he’s been so good, even extra affectionate lately, and she knows the separation has been hard on him. 

As Brandon slides his hand into hers, squeezing gently as they walk out the door of her new apartment, she makes a silent promise to him that she’ll sort out her feelings for her estranged husband within the next couple of months, so she can end her son’s confusion (and hers) — whether that means reconciliation or divorce.

When they pull into the parking lot, Stef unbuckles her seatbelt and looks back at her son, quiet and content as he stares out the window, taking in his surroundings.

Her observant little man.

“You ready, B?”

“We gotta stay long time, Mom?”

Stef smiles. “Not too long, sweetheart. I need to sign a few things while you work with one of the teachers.”

Brandon frowns. “Why?”

“Just a few questions and activities for you to complete before you start kindergarten, love. I promise it’ll be quick and painless.”

He looks skeptical. “Swear?”

“Yes. You’re a smart boy. It’ll be a piece of cake for you, bud.”

“I can have cake?” he asks, his forehead wrinkling in adorable confusion.

“It’s an expression.”

“So...no cake?”

This kid. “How about we stop for ice cream on the way home?”

Brandon’s face lights up. “Deal.”

Stef shakes her head, laughing as she exits the car to help him out of his seat. “You drive a hard bargain, little man.”

* * *

“It’s nice to meet you, Brandon,” Lena, radiating light today, kneels to Brandon’s height and shakes his hand, a broad smile on her lips. 

Stef’s hands grow so clammy that she tries to nonchalantly slide them against the denim of her jeans. She’s only been back in this woman’s presence for two minutes and she’s already melting down. 

Literally.

“You’re pretty,” Brandon says bluntly. Stef chokes on a laugh. Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Lena’s smile turns shy, her sparkling gaze looking up at Stef briefly before she turns back to the young boy. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

He shrugs. “Just tellin’ the truth. Mom says that’s imp-ortant.”

“Yes, well,” Lena rises to her feet. “Your mother is very wise.” Her eyes find Stef again, but she lingers longer than her last glance, and it steals Stef’s breath right out of her chest. She has to look away, breaking the spell as she looks out of Lena’s office window at a pair of summer school stragglers making their way into the building. 

“Brandon, is it okay if I walk you to one of our classrooms while your mom waits here? Would that be okay with you?”

Brandon seems to think it over for a minute, looking Lena over as if he’s trying to decipher whether or not he can trust her. “Not too long, right?”

Lena smiles. “Do you like Sesame Street?” He nods. “I’ll come back to get you in the time it would take to watch 1 and a half Sesame Streets.”

“Okay,” he says solemnly, reaching out for her hand. Lena looks touched, as she accepts, linking their hands together.

Stef reaches over to ruffle her son’s hair. “Knock ‘em dead, buddy, okay?”

Brandon frowns, cocking his head. “Is that another ‘spression?”

Lena and Stef exchange amused glances. “Yes, honey.”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Lena says. “Feel free to make yourself at home while you wait.”

At home, hmm?

Well, home to her means  _ lightly _ perusing the space she’s in for displayed personal effects (look, she can’t just turn the cop instincts off when she’s not on duty), so hopefully Lena won’t mind just a little snooping. She can’t help her wandering eyes as they jump around Lena’s personal effects: a photo of her and her parents (Stef assumes) in matching pajamas at Christmas looking ever the part of a Hallmark card, the diploma she’d received for completing her PhD, some knicknacks, and  _ plenty _ of books.

Stef wonders, not for the first time, if Lena is married or has children, but there doesn’t seem to be any sign of either milestone.

And while Stef hasn’t cumulatively known her more than an hour or two at most, she imagines Lena is exactly the type of person that would be too proud of her family not to have reminders of them in the place where she spends the bulk of her time.

A few minutes later, Stef hears the click of the doorknob, grateful that maintenance apparently still hasn’t fixed the door. She situates herself in one of the chairs across from Lena’s desk, trying to look relaxed, as if she’s been sitting there the whole time. 

“I hope Brandon didn’t give you any trouble,” Stef says as Lena closes the door behind her.

Lena smiles. “Not at all. In fact, I think his halo needs a little polishing.”

Stef rolls her eyes, humming in mild disbelief. “I’d tell you about the shady backroom ice cream deal we made on the way in here, but I wouldn’t want to ruin your first impression of him.”

Lena laughs, a full-bodied and rich sound that reaches her eyes. “All kids need sweet-talked every now and again. But you can’t fake manners and kindness.”

A small smile flirts at Stef’s lips. “No, I suppose not,” she says softly.

Lena settles down into her chair, flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder. It looks like it’s been blown out — like it was the day they met two weeks ago — and Stef wonders if she always wears it that way.

It’s gorgeous, but then again, she’s not sure a woman like Lena could ever look anything but stunning.

Stef shifts uncomfortably in her seat as the unfiltered thought breezes easily through her head, much like so many of them had on that first day they met.

But, surely, she can find another woman to be drop-dead gorgeous without it meaning anything.

Right?

“I hope you don’t mind me saying that it seems like you and your husband have done a good job with him.”

Stef breaks out of the rabbit hole she climbed down for a moment, pasting on a smile. “That’s nice of you to say.”

Lena cocks her head, amusement flaring in her eyes. “You don’t think I mean it, do you?”

Stef flushes, glancing down briefly as she clears her throat. “No, on the contrary, I imagine you rarely say anything without being completely sincere,” she replies softly.

Lena’s mouth opens just a little, but she doesn’t say anything. The moment, Stef’s words, suck up all the air in the space between them before it collides into her chest. 

_ Breathe, Stef. _

Finally, one of them gatherers their wherewithal. Lena is the one to break their connection this time, her gaze darting down to a small folder on the corner of her desk as she drapes her hand over it.

“Um,” she starts, clearing her throat.“I’ve got the paperwork here for you to look over and sign. It’s pretty standard stuff. The only thing we won’t be able to take care of today is his immunization records, so if you or your husband can drop off a copy sometime in the next couple of weeks before fall semester officially starts, that would be great.”

“Brandon has a doctor’s appointment next week, so I’ll ask them for a copy while I’m there.” Stef pauses, glancing up at the clock. “Do you know how long the screening will take?”

“Shouldn’t be longer than 45 minutes.”

“Ah, right,” Stef smiles in remembrance, taking the folder off Lena’s hands. “One and a half Sesame Streets.”

“Do you have other plans you need to get to today?”

Stef uncaps her pen with her teeth as she flips the folder open. “No. No plans.”

Lena lifts an eyebrow. “But?”

“I-just,” Stef expels a breath, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.”

“Stef,” Lena says encouragingly. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Brandon, he-he just gets a little separation anxiety these days, that’s all.” Stef sighs. “The split has been hard on him.”

“I’m sorry,” Lena says sympathetically.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come in here and laid my problems at your feet-”

“Hey,” Lena interrupts. “You didn’t.”

She kind of did, but she appreciates Lena’s kindness, regardless.

“And for what it’s worth? You seem to be doing a wonderful job with him. You’re trying to figure it out, and that’s all any of us can do,” Lena tilts her head. “So maybe cut yourself some slack.”

“Thank you.” 

Lena grins. “Anytime.”


	2. Chapter 2

For a week straight after Brandon starts school, Stef finds an excuse to linger after drop-off. She successfully bumps into Lena three times, but the assistant vice principal has been apologetically busy, unable to stop for more than a couple of minutes before she has to dash off to a meeting or take care of a crisis.

On Friday — when it’s Stef’s turn to pick up Brandon after school — she tells herself to cut the crap and suck it up and ask Lena to lunch.

Just two new friends getting together, that’s it. In all honesty, though, she can really use a new friend, especially since so many of her old ones were part of couples that she and Mike used to hang out with. She’s tried to reach out to a few of them, but it’s always awkward and rife with excuses that Stef would laugh at if she wasn’t the one being blown off.

She raps her knuckles on Lena’s open office door 10 minutes before dismissal so she can talk to her without any prying 5-year-old ears that are way too observant for his own good. 

“Stef!” Lena exclaims, smiling broadly. Her gaze flickers up to the clock on the wall as she pushes her chair back from her desk. “Are you here to pick up Brandon? I think you’re a few minutes early.”

Stef shoves her hands into her pockets, lingering against the doorframe. “Yeah, actually, I was just thinking today, um,” she shrugs, licking her lips. “I was just thinking how hard it’s been to make friends since the separation.”

Lena tilts her head in sympathy and on anyone else it would seem pitying — but not Lena Adams.

“So I, uh, I was just wondering if you wanted to grab lunch or something this weekend if you’re free?”

Lena’s smile tips into her eyes, lighting up her entire face, and it sends a rocket shooting through Stef’s stomach. “That sounds great. How about tomorrow?”

“1 o’clock okay? I have to go into the precinct in the morning to wrap up a few reports I didn’t get to today, but I should be done by noon.”

“Perfect. Do you still have my card?”

Stef has it taped to her fridge and shamelessly glances at it every night, contemplating an excuse to text Lena, but she doesn’t tell her that. “Yeah.”

“Text my cell or call me tonight and we can figure out a good spot.”

Stef smiles. “Great.” She pushes away from the doorway before things have a chance to get awkward again. “I should - ” she flicks her head out to the parking lot. “I’ll call you tonight.”

“Oh, wait, I - ”

Stef turns back to her, lifting an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Lena reassures her. “I just wanted to tell you that I got a chance to catch up with Brandon’s teacher this week. She’s really impressed by him and says he’s thriving.”

Stef’s breath catches in her throat. “He, uh, he is?” Brandon has been more subdued and quiet at home lately these last couple of weeks. She’s been worried that it would bleed over and start manifesting at school, too. Maybe acting out or not participating, something along those lines.

Stef’s been contemplating sending him to a professional that can help in ways that she can’t, but she hasn’t had the time to really sit down and do the research yet.

Maybe when she’s feeling brave enough, she can ask Lena for a recommendation.

Lena must read the anxiety in her eyes, the stiffness in her back, because she lays a hand on Stef’s arm, squeezing it gently. “He’s doing really well, Stef,” she says softly.

Stef bites down on her lip roughly, keeping her emotions in check. “Thank you,” she rasps.

The warmth behind Lena’s gaze sets her ablaze. “Anytime.”

* * *

This is a terrible idea.

But one glance yesterday at Stef’s bright smile and charming nerves and Lena was toast. She wasn’t even sure she had the capacity to remember the words “No,” “I can’t,” or “Sorry, but I can’t fall for a straight woman again!”

Okay, she’d never say that last one, but it certainly crossed her mind.

But here she is now meeting Stef at a beachfront cafe at 1 o’clock on a Saturday, smoothing down her crisp linen pants as if the gesture had the power to calm her nerves. She lingers inside the doorway, keeping an eye out for Stef when her phone buzzes in her pocket. 

She flips it open to a text:

_ Running a few minutes late. Sorry! Feel free to grab a table outside if you don’t mind sitting in the sun. Be there shortly. _

She types out her reply:

_ No rush. Meet me on the patio when you get here. _

Lena relays her request to the hostess and trails after her to a table on the patio outside that faces the ocean. The patronage is surprisingly light for a warm Saturday afternoon and Lena is definitely not complaining.

She orders a water and a white wine, trying in vain to keep her hair behind her ears as the wind tosses it about. Once the waitress leaves with her drink order, Lena gathers her hair in a bun atop her head, grateful that she remembered to snag an elastic from her bathroom on the way out the door.

“Hey,” a breathless, familiar voice says from behind her. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“No, you’re…” Lena trails off as Stef steps fully into view clad in a police uniform that fits her like a glove, her shiny hair wrapped in a twist at her crown. “Fine,” she finishes, swallowing roughly.

Stef looks like  _ this  _ every day? 

Cool. Her wine order cannot come fast enough.

“Sorry about the uniform,” Stef apologizes as she pulls out her chair, completely oblivious to Lena’s ogling. “I threw some civvies in the back of my car but got pulled out into the field, so I didn’t have time to change.”

Lena’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Civvies?”

Stef smiles. “Sorry. Cop shorthand for ‘civilian clothes.’”

“Ah,” Lena nods in understanding. “Well, it’s no problem.”

She’s at a loss then for anything remotely intelligent to say, but thankfully the waitress swoops in to save her, returning with Lena’s drinks and a basket of bread.

“What can I get you to drink?” the young woman asks Stef. 

“Hmm,” Stef’s wrinkles her nose in thought and Lena doesn’t know the last time she’s seen anything more adorable. Her eyes fall to Lena’s wine glass. “Is that dry?”

Lena takes a small sip, nodding. 

“Great, I’ll have that.” Stef smiles at the waitress. “Thanks.” 

Lena lifts an eyebrow as their server walks out of earshot. “Can you drink while you’re in uniform?”

“Not so much.” Stef rolls her eyes as her fingers flit to the buttons of her shirt — flying through them with the ease that only someone who wears a uniform every day could — before she slips the shirt off her shoulders, revealing a black t-shirt underneath.

Then Stef removes a few bobby pins from the crown of her head and her tresses fall to the top of her shoulders in waves of liquid gold.

Lena realizes with a start that she’s watched in mesmerization while Stef did all this in the span of 60 seconds. She takes a long gulp of ice water, relishing the way it slides down the back of her throat. Whew, boy.

“So,” Stef starts, reaching for a slice of bread. “How was your morning?”

Lena relaxes, releasing the tension in her shoulders. Neutral territory. She can do this. “Uneventful,” she shrugs. “I was out late last night for once, so I slept in a little this morning.”

“Wild night?” Stef teases.

Lena laughs, rolling her eyes. “Hardly. I met a date for dinner and then my friends dragged us out dancing for a friend’s birthday.”

“Dancing, huh? That sounds like fun. Where’d you guys go?”

Lena hesitates. She’s not ashamed at all to be a lesbian, but she finds the process of coming out over and over again to be... exhausting. “We went to The Laurel.”

Stef pauses, stops chewing. “The Laurel, that’s, uh, a - ”

“Lesbian bar?” Lena interrupts, ending the impending awkwardness. “Yeah.”

Stef nods. “So that would probably make you - ”

“A lesbian. Yes.” Lena finishes again. “Is that a problem?”

“No.” Stef cocks her head, a challenging, amused glint in her eye. “Should it be?”

_ Okay, Stefanie Foster. I see you. _

The corners of Lena’s lips twitch as she suppresses a smile. “No.”

* * *

“So how are you really doing?” Lena asks an hour later, taking a sip of her second glass of wine. They’ve both polished off their meals and said no to dessert — Lena’s stuffed and she’s got a cheesecake at home and a movie rental that’s calling her name for later. 

But she’s also not in any hurry to say goodbye to her new friend.

Stef leans back in her chair, sighing as she cards a hand through her hair. “I don’t know. I’m worried about B - “

“Stef,” Lena admonishes gently. “We’ve spent the last 15 minutes talking about Brandon -”

Stef blushes. “I’m sorry - “

“No,” Lena shakes her head. “That wasn’t a complaint. He’s a delightful child and I’m happy to listen to you talk about him as much as you want.” She cocks her head. “But I was asking about  _ you _ .”

“I don’t, uh, I -” Stef stammers, biting down on the corner of her mouth. “What is there to say, you know?” she chuckles hollowly. “Every day I think about ending my marriage and I still can’t bring myself to pull the trigger.”

She shakes her head. “You know, and I think about all the people I’d be hurting if I ended it. Mike, Brandon, my parents.  _ His _ parents. Our friends. And for what? A gut feeling that something’s wrong.”

Oh boy.

Lena lifts an eyebrow. “You mean that same gut that you rely on when you put that uniform on every day?”

“Yeah, rich isn’t it? I have no trouble listening to it on the job, but when it comes to my personal life, I can’t seem to run away from it fast enough.”

Lena’s got a theory that Stef knows exactly what she has to do — that the other woman might even be wrestling with some internalized homophobia — but she doesn’t know her well enough to really make that assessment. 

She could really just be straight and ready to end her marriage. But Lena’s gotten used to listening to her gut, too. And her gut tells her it’s more than that. 

That, and her gaydar is rarely wrong.

Still, it’s definitely not her place to turn Stef’s world upside down. She’s gotta figure that one out on her own.

“You’re regretting asking me now, aren’t you?” Stef teases.

Lena laughs. “No. I just think that maybe deep down you know the answers that you’re looking for.” She hesitates. “Whether or not you’re ready to listen to them might be another story.”

The way Stef’s smile dims a little along with the light in her eyes makes Lena’s heart twist painfully in her chest. She can’t imagine what Stef must be going through - to spend all that time building a family only to consider dismantling it years later. 

It would be too much to bear.

“I’m sorry,” Lena says sincerely. “It must be really hard for you.”

“Thank you,” Stef rasps, clearing her throat before she pastes on a smile. “But you know, I should get going. My place is a wreck and I should  _ try _ to put it back together before I pick up Brandon tomorrow night.”

“Sure.” Lena reaches for the bill but Stef shakes her head, snatching it up before Lena’s hand makes contact. “Stef,” Lena says in exasperation.

“I invited you,” Stef protests. “You can get next time.”

“All right,” Lena rolls her eyes. “Thank you.”

Stef smirks. “Anytime.”

* * *

The next week passes in a blur for Stef. She gets caught up in a case at the station and between working longer hours and passing Brandon off back and forth — poor kid — she’s exhausted.

It doesn’t help that when she does have a moment to breathe her brain has been working double time thinking about her lunch with Lena. She’s been thinking about Lena even more than usual, especially what she said about Stef trusting her gut but not being ready to hear what it had to tell her.

The more she thinks about it, the more she knows Lena’s right.

She hasn’t seen or spoken to her since last weekend. On the mornings or afternoons that she’s been able to drop off or pick up Brandon from school, she’s been too rushed to drop by and say hello.

On Friday night, after dropping Brandon off at his dad’s (again), Stef stumbles through the doorway of her apartment, exhausted as she kicks off her shoes inside her apartment, wincing as they hit the wall with a thud. 

She untucks her shirt from her polyester uniform pants as she pads into the kitchen, immediately heading for the wine rack. She releases her hair from the prison of her bobby pins, wincing as she tosses the pins onto the counter. Her scalp has been sore with tension lately, so she’s grateful she has the next three days off to wear her hair down and give it a much-needed break.

Stef uncorks a bottle of red and leans against the counter, the week catching up with her. She could easily go to bed right now but it’s only 7 p.m. and she’s not  _ quite  _ that pathetic. She just needs something to keep her awake —

Someone to talk to. Hmm.

Her eyes fall to her house phone before flicking up to Lena’s business card that hasn’t left its spot on the refrigerator.

She shouldn’t. Lena’s probably not even home. It’s Friday night — she’s probably got a date or something. 

Ugh, a date. She wishes  _ she  _ was the one out with Le-

_ Shit _ . There it is again. Stef’s heart thuds rapidly in her chest and before she can stop herself, she picks up the phone and dials Lena’s phone number. 

“Hello?”

Stef winces, her eyes slamming closed as she realizes she hadn’t bothered to formulate any sort of excuse for calling her.

“Hello?” Lena asks again.

“Lena, hi. S-sorry,” Stef stammers out. “It’s Stef.”

“Stef, hey! It’s good to hear from you.”

“It is?” she asks dumbly.

“Yeah, I was just thinking of calling you myself. I hadn’t seen you around school this week, so I wondered if everything was okay.”

Stef’s cheeks flush and she’s glad she’s alone right now. Was Lena worried about her? “It’s been an insane week at work,” Stef sandwiches her phone between her cheek and her shoulder as she grabs her glass of wine and makes her way into the living room, plopping down gracelessly onto the couch. 

“I’ve been working crazy hours,” she continues. “This is the first chance I feel like I’ve had to breathe all week.”

“That sounds awful, I’m sorry.”

Stef smiles. “Just part of the job.”

“Are you at least off for the weekend?”

“I’m off for the next three days. Brandon’s at his dad’s tonight and tomorrow, but I’m going to pick him up Sunday morning to spend the day with him since I haven’t seen him much this week.”

“Oh good. You deserve a break.” Lena pauses. “So...is that why you called? To see if Brandon was okay at school this week?”

_ Okay, Stef. She’s giving you an out. Are you going to take it? _

“No,” Stef clears her throat. “I’ve been dead on my feet so I wanted someone to talk to so I can try  _ not _ to fall asleep at 7 o’clock on a Friday night. ” She hesitates. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your plans.”

Lena snorts. “My Friday night plans currently involve my pajamas and a bottle of wine, so you’re not interrupting much.”

Stef laughs, swirling her wine glass. “Right there with ya.”

“We certainly are a pair, aren’t we?” Lena chuckles.

* * *

Thirty minutes later and half a glass of wine later, Stef is feeling bolder, untouchable. She’s been dying to ask Lena something ever since their lunch, but wasn’t sure it was really appropriate for this point in their friendship.

She still isn’t sure really, but the wine makes her care less.

“Lena, can I ask you a personal question? With the caveat that you have the right not to answer if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Hmm,” Lena hums. “I’m intrigued now. Shoot.”

Stef licks her lips, the grapes from her wine rich and heavy on her tongue. Despite having only finished half a glass, a pleasant buzz runs lazily through her veins. She hasn’t eaten much today. “When did you know you were gay?”

Lena clears her throat. She’s quiet for a moment.

“Sorry,” Stef winces at her silence. Has she already crossed a line? “You don’t have -”

“No,” Lena interjects. “I don’t mind answering. You just caught me off guard. It’s fine, Stef.”

“Okay,” Stef replies softly. She pulls a blanket down from the edge of the couch, getting comfy as she lays her head down on a pillow. She’d turned the air up 15 minutes ago after her insides had warmed from the alcohol, but now she’s chilly. She wraps it around her along with the soft cadence of Lena’s voice that she thinks she could never possibly tire of.

“I think on some level, I’ve always known. I never really had crushes on boys growing up and I never had a boyfriend,” she says slowly. “I fully realized I was gay in high school and after coming to terms with it for myself, I’ve been out ever since.”

“Oh,” Stef says, her heart sinking. It wasn’t the answer she was hoping for.

“But Stef, everyone’s experience with coming to terms with their sexuality is different. For some it doesn’t happen until later in life. When you’re surrounded by heteronormative experiences, societal and familial expectations, it’s easy to suppress that side of yourself.” She pauses. “Or not even really realize that it’s there.”

“And your family? Did they have those expectations of you?”

“No, I’ve been lucky. I think it took my parents some time to wrap their heads around it, but they were accepting pretty much from the minute I told them.”

“Wow,” Stef swallows hard, despair for what her teenage self went through catching clumsily in her throat. “That’s great.”

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” Stef sighs, tearing a hand through her hair where the chaos of her week still lingers. It’s tangled and greasy and in desperate need of a wash. 

“You can tell me,” Lena says gently.

“When I was in high school, I was really good friends with this girl named Tess. We were inseparable, you know? We’d have these long talks in her car, we’d get real close and watch movies. I’ve never felt anything like…” she trails off, takes a deep shuddering breath. “Anyway, one night, my father came home to find us cuddling on the couch. He freaked out, sent me to his pastor for a lecture on how homosexuality was a sin.” On the other end, she hears Lena suck in a sharp breath. “And I never saw Tess again after that.”

Lena is quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been awful for you.”

“I didn’t even know  _ what _ I was feeling at the time, you know? I didn’t have a name for it, I was still trying to put it all together in my head. And just when I felt like I was starting to make some sense of it, our friendship was over.”

“Stef, I don’t know your dad. But  _ you  _ know there’s no shame in being gay, right?” Lena asks. “And I’m not saying that you are. Only you can know that. I think that what the real shame would be is if you let the opinions of others dictate the way you live your life.”

Lena’s words should make Stef feel lighter, she thinks, but instead they seem to take up the entire room as they sit on her chest, crushing her sternum. 

She can’t process this right now. Not after the week she’s had. She needs sleep.

And maybe a good therapist.

“Stef, are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just tired,” Stef lies. “I should go. It’s getting late.”

“Sure, whatever you need.” The lilt of Lena’s voice is all Stef needs to hear to know that Lena can see right through her.

“Thanks for tonight, Lena,” Stef says lamely. It’s not enough, not what she wants to say, but she’s tired and the wine is slowing her faculties down. 

“You’ve had a long week, Stef. Why don’t you let me buy you dinner tomorrow night? I still owe you from lunch.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Stef says sincerely. “But that sounds perfect. Let’s do it.”

She shouldn’t. She’s confused and likely to do something she might regret. But she’s incapable of saying no to Lena, apparently.

“I’ll pick a place and text you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Stef smiles sleepily into the phone. “Good night, Lena.”

“Good night, Stef.”


	3. Chapter 3

She puts on a dress and it feels all...wrong.

Stef hasn’t forgotten that she showed up to their lunch in her uniform, cringes just thinking about it, but at least it stopped her from second-guessing the outfit she brought along.

And it’s not that she doesn’t like wearing dresses - she does from time to time, when the occasion calls for it.

But tonight doesn’t feel like one of those times. She wants to look like she made an effort but also feel comfortable — especially since the whole situation sometimes feels anything  _ but _ comfortable — and she just won’t feel truly at ease in a skirt or a dress tonight. 

Eventually, after way too many outfit changes and Nirvana songs, she settles on a pair of distressed jeans, a deep green sleeveless blouse, and her favorite pair of heels (the ones that have never let her stumble, no matter how many glasses of wine she’s had).

She checks the time and realizes with a start that she has to leave in the next two minutes at the latest if she wants to make it on time. She texts Mike quickly to check on Brandon before she shoves her phone into the pocket of her jeans and shrugs into her leather jacket.

She fumbles trying to remove her car keys from her purse with shaky hands, so she takes a second to be still, listening to the sound of her stuttered breathing.

She’s nervous. Though maybe just a little  _ more  _ than nervous if her breathing pattern is any indication. 

Tonight feels different. Weighted. Like she’s reached an internal tipping point and tonight she either takes the plunge or backs down for good. But she also has no idea what that means or looks like for her -

If Lena would even be receptive to it. And if she isn’t...what does Stef do from there?

Impulsivity is coursing through her veins and she doesn’t really know how to stop it at this point. Not after a lifetime of overthinking and living her life according to everyone else’s rulebook. 

But she still hasn’t figured out how to live her truth without blowing up everyone else’s life. Is it even possible?

Ugh, now she  _ is _ going to be late. She gulps down a breath, flicks the entry light on and closes the door behind her.

It’s now or never.

* * *

Lena looks  _ incredible _ .

Draped in a silk blue jumpsuit and her natural curly hair running wild and free, she looks like she just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine.

“You look amazing,” Stef breathes out, wrapping the other woman in a hug. Soft notes of vanilla and sandalwood hit Stef’s nose, sending her belly fluttering.

“Thank you,” Lena says when they break apart, looking flushed and pleased as she sits down in her seat. “You don’t think the natural hair is too much?”

Stef pulls out her own chair, cocking her head. “Are you serious, Lena? It’s gorgeous. Do you not wear it like this often?”

Lena shakes her head. “I always blow it out.”

“Why?”

“I always wanted straight hair,” Lena says sheepishly.

She doesn’t want to make Lena feel ashamed for choosing to wear her hair in a way that’s comfortable for her. “I think it’s beautiful,” Stef says sincerely. “But you should wear it the way you want.”

“Thank you.” Lena looks touched. “My mother gives me such grief for straightening it. Said she always wanted curls like mine.”

Stef snorts, rolling her eyes. “Mothers.”

“How is your relationship with your mother?” Lena asks curiously, taking a sip of water.

Stef shrugs. “It’s okay, I guess. She’s a bit of a kook, but I love her anyway.” Stef smiles. “I was always more of a daddy’s girl though, I guess.”

“Which is why it must’ve been even harder for you when your dad sent you to that pastor,” Lena nods.

“Yeah,” Stef bites her lip, nodding. “I guess I’ve always just craved his approval.” Much to her detriment over the course of her life, certainly.

A flicker of a sympathetic smile graces Lena’s mouth as she leans over and places a comforting hand over Stef’s. “You’re human.”

“Yeah.” She reaches her fingers around to gently squeeze Lena’s hand and their eyes lock on each other. Her stomach coils in on itself and she thinks maybe she stopped breathing, but she can’t be sure. She can’t possibly think about anything else other than the way Lena’s warm hand feels around hers and the way her heightened gaze strips away all her layers and protective armor. Can she see Stef’s heart hammering away in her chest?

“Good evening, what can I get started for you?”

Stef startles, breaking out of her reverie as she slides her hand away from Lena’s. Jesus, they haven’t even  _ ordered  _ yet. She needs to get a grip.

“Um,” Stef chuckles nervously. “Can I get a glass of merlot? And I’ll have the fettuccine alfredo.”

“Would you like chicken on that, miss?” the waiter asks.

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

The waiter leaves after Lena orders a glass of white and shrimp scampi with linguini. There’s a tension in the air now, and it’s more than a little awkward. She has to break the ice somehow.

“How was work this week?”

Lena rolls her eyes, her frown lines smoothing out as her unease dissipates. “I love my job, don’t get me wrong. But my boss, Principal Sanchez, she just doesn’t always have the kids’ best interests at heart.”

“How so?”

“She’s so focused on grades and standardized test scores. And I’m not saying that they don’t have value, but study after study has proven that they’re not reliable indicators of a child’s potential.” She pauses, visibly frustrated. “We should be nurturing their learning, finding innovative ways to get through to them. Not punishing them when they don’t live up to an insane standard that a bunch of white men in suits with no educational background created a decade ago.”

Lena sighs, propping her elbow on the table as she lets her chin fall to her open palm. “Sorry.”

Stef shakes her head, amused. “Don’t apologize. I think it’s incredible how passionate you are. I wish we had more people like you running the educational system. I mean, imagine where we’d be as a country.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Stef levels her with a look. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

“I’ve thought about it-”

Stef grins. “Of course you have.”

“I know there are others on the faculty and staff who are just as frustrated with the way things are being run. I’ve thought about trying to convince them to help me convert Anchor Beach into a charter school.”

“Wow,” Stef whistles, impressed. “Is that difficult to do?”

“First, we’d have to write up a charter and then get 60 percent of the staff on board. Then we let the Board of Education decide.”

“Well, Lena,” Stef smiles, draping her napkin over her lap as the waiter approaches with their food and drinks. “I think that if anyone could convince more than half of the administration that this is the right move for your kids, it would be you.” 

Stef lifts her fork, thanking their server before she turns back to Lena. “Get out there and kick some ass.”

Lena doesn’t say anything, just grins around a forkful of pasta.

An hour and a half later, they’re splitting a dessert (a chocolate ganache cake that is to  _ die _ for) and this whole thing is feeling more and more like a date as the night goes on. At one point in the middle of their meal Stef’s knee accidentally brushed against Lena’s, but she just couldn’t bring herself to apologize or move it away. It lingers there still and whenever one of them shifts and brushes the other one, it nearly knocks the breath out of her.

“Is this what heaven tastes like?” Lena asks, looking almost euphoric as she polishes off the last bite.

Stef nearly chokes. Yeah, she’s not touching that one. But Lena notices and bursts out in a peal of laughter, covering her mouth with her napkin. 

Stef desperately tries to hold it in but she can’t. “Oh my God,” she says through a guttural laugh, doubling over with it. 

At this point, the two of them are eliciting stares from the rest of the restaurant, but Stef can’t bring herself to care at all. This moment, this  _ woman _ , is perfect and if she doesn’t find a way to keep her for the rest of her life, she’ll never forgive herself.

When they step outside minutes later after they’ve paid the bill, they’re still drunk with laughter. Stef almost wishes she could blame it on the wine, but they’ve each only had one glass so they could drive home. 

“Come on,” she nudges Lena’s shoulder. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Their mirth falls away with each step they take and Stef swears she can hear her own heart pounding in her ears, matching the click of her heels against the pavement. 

As they stop in front of Lena’s car, Stef takes quick stock of the parking lot, relief in the knowledge that it’s just the two of them out here alone under the moon.

Lena turns to her. “Stef, I -”

But Stef doesn’t let her finish, doesn’t want to hear Lena list all the ways that this is a bad idea. For God’s sake, she just wants to  _ stop _ thinking.

She lifts her hands to cradle Lena’s cheeks as her mouth finds her pillow-soft lips, the ones Stef has been dreaming about since that fateful day at Anchor Beach. Lena stills in shock for a moment but then she’s  _ eager _ , oh god, her fingers sliding through Stef’s hair, dancing at the nape of her neck as her other hand slides smoothly into the back pocket of Stef’s jeans. 

Stef shivers, swallowing a moan, lest it break the spell between the two of them. 

_ Oh _ , this is it.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

* * *

As Stef cants lazily into her, eliminating whatever space was left between them, Lena feels like she could burst into flames any second. 

But if she keeps going, keeps tumbling down this well, that’s exactly what will happen to her heart.

“Hang on,” Lena takes a step back, putting distance between them. She presses a hand against her stomach, shaking her head. God,  _ how _ did she let this happen? “What are we doing?”

“Kissing?” Stef offers weakly, smudging her fingers against her own kiss-swollen lips.

“You have a  _ husband _ .” Lena laughs, but it’s empty and hollow, as if she’s just having the realization again for the first time. “You have a  _ husband,  _ Stef.”

“We’re separated.”

“Does he know you’re leaning toward divorce?”

Stef is quiet. Too quiet. “No.”

Lena lifts an eyebrow. “Okay, well, no offense, but that’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Lena, it’s not that easy,” Stef protests. “I have a life, a  _ son _ , I - ” she breaks off on a sigh.

“So what? You just wanted to do  _ this, _ ” Lena gestures between them, “while you string your husband along and keep your family in the dark?”

Stef frowns, crossing her arms over her chest. “That’s not fair.”

“No, Stef. What isn’t  _ fair _ is this. Whatever you’re doing with me. It isn’t fair to your son, your husband, you…” she trails off, swallowing hard. “And me.”

“Tell me you don’t feel it, too,” Stef pleads gently.

“Of course I feel it, too!” Lena’s arm cuts through the air before it smacks back down against her thigh. “I felt it the moment we met.”

Stef takes a step closer and even  _ that  _ is so sexy that if Lena were a smaller person, she would let her resolve weaken. “Me too.”

Lena holds up her hand, preventing the other woman from coming any closer. “That isn’t the problem here and you know it.”

Stef sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Lena, I just need a little time. That’s it. Just some time to figure out how to tell everyone I’m…...”

Lena laughs incredulously. “A  _ lesbian _ ? Jesus, Stef. How the hell are you supposed to tell anyone you’re gay when you can’t even say the words out loud?”

Stef flushes with embarrassment. “You make it sound so easy, just blowing up everyone else’s life - ”

“It isn’t blowing up everyone else’s life, Stef!” A fire blazes in Lena’s eyes. “It’s  _ living _ yours.”

They both go quiet then, the shrill call of a distant ambulance the only sound that can be heard as the fight leaves the two of them. But even now, Lena can still feel the air crackle between them — frisson, whatever the hell you want to call it.

But whatever it is, she’s done paying attention to it. She can’t let this confused, magnetic woman break her heart. Chemistry be damned.

It’s overrated, anyway, she thinks miserably.

“I need to go,” Lena says shortly, wrapping her hand around the door of her car. “Don’t call me.”

She turns away as she opens the door, long enough to hear her name, cracked and broken on Stef’s lips.

She sucks in a deep breath. “Goodbye, Stef.” With that, she slides into the car and slams the door closed behind her. Her hands tremble at the wheel as her eyes dart to the rearview mirror every few seconds to watch the woman she thinks she could love for the rest of her life walk away.

When Stef’s faltering gait is out of sight moments later, Lena’s head falls into her hands as she finally lets out a deep, body-wracking sob.

* * *

A week after that disastrous dinner with Stef, Lena finally feels in charge of her emotions again. She let herself cry for a couple of days and forced herself to let go of all her notions of what could’ve been.

She doesn’t know if Stef is avoiding her too, but she hasn’t heard a peep from her since that night, nor has she made herself known to Lena on campus. It’s for the best, and Lena knows she’d be furious if Stef pushed, but it still makes her heart ache.

She’s going to be fine — but she’s definitely staying away from dating or tempting women for the foreseeable future. She’ll meet the right person, someday. In that, at least, her faith has never wavered.

It’s ten minutes before dismissal on Friday and Lena can’t wait to get home for a night of relaxation, junk food, and old movies before a visit from her parents this weekend. It’s exactly what she needs.

She’s packing up her bag when her phone buzzes on her desk, alerting her to an incoming text. She flips it open without reading who it’s from, assuming it’s her mom and dad confirming their early arrival time tomorrow morning.

_ Can you come outside? It’s important. _

Lena swallows hard. It isn’t her parents —

It’s Stef. 

_ Please, Lena. It’s important. Just hear me out and then I’ll leave. I promise. _

Lena sighs. She could ignore it, but she knows Stefanie Foster well enough to know that once she’s got her mind on something, she won’t back down until she sees it through.

It’s a quality that Lena deeply admires and respects, but right now, she’s really wishing it was aimed somewhere other than her. 

She grabs her keys, locking her office door behind her before she ambles out to the parking lot to find Stef leaning against her car, arms folded. She looks calm and confident, easily the most at-ease Lena has ever seen her.

What does that mean?

When Stef spots Lena, she drops her pose, turning around to face her. But Lena cuts her off before she can say whatever it is she came here to say.

Lena scoffs a little. “I’m not doing this. I’m not. I’m not getting involved with a married woman. Women like you...you are just passing through, but this is where I  _ live _ , Stef.”

“I told Mike and I told all, well - most of my friends. I told them I’m gay. I even used the word lesbian.”

_ Oh _ . 

_ W _ ell,  _ that _ certainly gets Lena’s attention.

“I told them that I met a woman I can’t live without and I-I belong with you, Lena.” The raw emotion in Stef’s voice is undeniable and it cracks Lena’s heart open all over again. Everything that she’s been trying to suppress for the last week comes rushing back in a fury, and it takes her breath away.

Oh, Stefanie Foster.

“That is, if you’ll…” Stef trails off, looking expectant.

“You had me at lesbian.” Lena lets out an incredulous, stunned little laugh. She can’t believe this is really happening.

Stef smiles as she reaches for her, her hands warm and gentle on Lena’s skin as she pulls her in closely to plant Lena’s hands on her waist. Confidence and certainty looks extraordinary on her, like this was the version Stef was always meant to be to the rest of the world.

Now she can live her truth while Lena stands proudly and unwavering beside her.

Stef kisses her sweetly, gently. “You busy this weekend?”

Lena hums in the affirmative. “My parents are in town.”

“I wasn’t planning on meeting them so soon,” Stef teases, brushing Lena’s hair back from her shoulders. 

“Hush, woman.” Lena silences her with another kiss, her body sighing in relief as the stress and the anxiety of the last couple of months becomes a distant memory.

This. This is where she’s home.


End file.
